Star Trek - Trifecta
by korben600
Summary: What happened to the Expanse after NX-01 left? This series chronicle's Starfleet's outpost in the new quadrant 20 years after they left.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: this is the first installment of my new series Star Trek: Trifecta, which is set in what used to be the Delphic Expanse 20 Years ago, this series will be closely related to Star Trek: Enterprise, and any people, characters or things that sound out of character, weird, or off, are 30% bad writing on my part, 30% plot holes I missed and 40% me inserting little plot devices to be explained later in the series. **

Like the passengers of the cargo trawlers lagging them almost all of the complement of 103 crewmembers crowded at the windows of the starship Excelsior.

A NX-refit class ship, it had a saucer shaped front section that was connected by a stem to the cone shaped secondary engine section under it, which in turn was connected to two long conic nacelles that provide the craft with faster than light travel capabilities. It had a hybrid look of a craft that smoothly transitioned from old to new, but even the odd mix of technologies divert from the fact that it's smooth transition from old to new it was pleasing to the eye.

This craft was built hastily in a war where everything else had been destroyed, and the creators of this ship put all of their efforts into this class of ships, mixing several different alien technologies to form an odd looking, but tough craft. But that was twenty years ago, and times had changed. This warhorse was now one of the oldest in the fleet of starships, the last of those hybrid protectors, and its final stop was menial guard duty at a base in deep space, where it would eventually be decommissioned and broken down for scrap. But no one pondered this as they stared out the side the spacecraft, this history of this fine ship was on the mind of only one man, the captain, a grizzled 36 year old man who had aged early, giving the air of wisdom of a 40 or even 50 year old, and much of those 36 years had been spent on this ship. He was not a nostalgic man, but nobody, not even a robot, can deny 20 years of your own history. He was going to miss his ship, and all of its quirks, but he knew that she, and him, were getting into their years and they needed to move on, the new Federation had just finished rebuilding, and didn't need the two of them anymore, though for different reasons.

The NX-20 Excelsior was getting old, but Captain Michael Nelson was getting outdated. He was a warrior, but there hadn't been a war in twenty years, and although he was thankful for that, God knows they didn't need one, the Federation was fragile in those 20 years, but that also meant the hierarchy at Starfleet command was putting the great war heroes to safer jobs out of the public's eye, they didn't want soldiers, they wanted explorers and as much as that would be nice, it just wasn't him. So instead of waiting to be put out to pasture in some PADD-pushing desk job, he decided to sign up for a new job at Deep Space One, the first deep space station sponsored by the Federation. Guaranteed to have its fair share of thugs and pirates, he wouldn't have a full scale war on his hands, but he sure as hell wasn't going to become bored.

As he and Excelsior came up on the station, he finally decided to stop reminiscing and have a look at the station he was being given command of. It was an unusual station, with a mix of alien technologies that put Excelsior to shame, with at least 9 different owners possessing it for some period of time. Each of those owners put a new segment onto the station, with a few alien merchants pitching in here and there, causing the station to look like a patchwork job. Captain Nelson took a liking to it, not because its old look showed it had a history, but because he could clearly see weapons ports and scar marks that were evident of a brutal history and tough armor. He was going to like this job.

**Author's Postscript: I am obsessive when it comes to plot holes, bad writing, bad grammar, and badly written characters, if there is something wrong in this story, please tell me, so that I can fix it in future stories or chapters**


	2. Chapter 2

As the starships approached the station, docked, and unloaded compliments of Starfleet officers, the disembarking passengers began to explore the station, looking around. The Captain had ordered all officers to meet him in the briefing areaof the Excelsior at 1430 hours, but that left 3 hours and 30 minutes to explore the station and the planet below.

Everyone went their separate ways, first to their quarters, then to explore this new station they would call home for quite some time to come. The space station was big enough so that you could spend weeks wandering around and not find all of it, and most people spent their entire time there, but some impatient officers decided to look only briefly and head down to the planet's surface to have a bit of fun. As some people were still afraid of getting their molecules disassembled, compressed, and reassembled in a transporter and as the ships were too busy using them to beam aboard cargo, the officers that wished to see the planet took a shuttle to a space elevator platform, which brought them to the capital of the planet. But since most weren't going to the surface, it was less crowded and quieter in the shuttle, perfect for someone just trying to look around and have a few minutes of peace.

One of those people was Operation's officer Commander T'Liz, of Vulcan. Vulcans are known for basing their entire lives around logic instead of emotions, their pointed ears, having strength three times that of a human, and superiority complexes. All of which culminate into probably one of the most infuriating species in this corner of the galaxy. However, T'Liz was not most Vulcans. She had a disorder from birth that weakened her emotional barriers, causing her to experience emotions like a human. That being said, she still had only tapped into a fraction of her emotions, any more, and she would be put into her people's version of an insane asylum, and she still had the superiority complex.

Another thing that was odd about her in comparison to her species was that she liked to drink, not alcohol or anything labeled as remotely intoxicating by most species definition, but she liked to have a sugar laced beverage quite frequently. This quirk of hers led her to a human bar on the outskirts of town known as Guido's Bar, where several Starfleet officers were already at, and she calmly took off a few pips on her collar. Thus degraded to an ensign, and as such nearly unnoticeable, save the ears, she walked in.

The bar was full, crammed to the brimming with Humans, Naussicans, Rigelians, and Klingons, all drinking out of metal cups. To avoid detection, she shuffled over to the far edge of the bar, farthest away from everyone else, then began to relax subtly, easing her straight posture, leaning forward slightly, and listened to the others in the area. She could have listened in on any of the conversations in the room, but as etiquette required, she only stretched her hearing to human levels, and waited for the bartender to come towards her. However, unfortunately, even at human levels, she could still hear the Klingons in the corner harassing a bartender. "If you ever are that sloppy with our drinks again I'll make you eat your own throat" she wrinkled her nose in distaste as the Klingons pushed him to the ground. She had turned around to do something when the main bartender, reached over and grabbed her arm. He whispered in her ear "Don't do anything, if you do, they will beat you" "Why won't the local authorities arrest them" "Who do you think would win in a fight, a group of human deputies who haven't been in a real fight for 12 years, or a group of battle hardened Klingons? Order a drink and leave them be, they have been here for several weeks already, strongarming half of the the city" "That is horrible, why don't you fight them" "Look, they are a nuisance, nothing more, are you going to order a drink or not" "Fine, I'd prefer lemonade, if you have it" "Coming right up"

At the other end of the bar was tactical officer Lieutenant-commander Talla Shran. She was a thin blue skinned alien, and had come down to the human bar ditching her pips on her collar because she knew from experience that knowing someone was several ranks above you was disconcerting, and though most would later recognize her as the lieutenant commander she was, it would still put everyone at ease for now before they realized who she was.

In this particular bar, she was hoping for a vodka martini, shaken, not stirred, because the entire ride in the cargo trawler, a group of humans she had befriended coerced her to try watching a 20th -22nd century set of human spy movies and had gotten her hooked on the series. The whole ride here she wanted to try it the signature concoction the protagonist always indulged in. Finding she liked the 'vodka martini', she ordered three more, to give her Andorian constitution a wakeup call. By the fourth one though, she was a bit tipsy, and when she and her newfound friends saw a Vulcan enter the bar, it was too good of an opportunity for her to miss. She immediately told her friends to "watch this" and walked up to the Vulcan.

The Italian bartender Guido Sanzo was a good man, who firmly believed that his experience behind a bar could steel him against being ruffled by anything however, when a very attractive Vulcan female came in, looked like she was going to beat a Klingon, and ordered a lemonade, he was dumbfounded, this was the first time that he had ever seen a Vulcan within this sector, let alone in his bar, but he regained his composure before she noticed.

After he delivered her drink, he kept a special eye on her, taking in information to learn more about her. He realized she wasn't like most Vulcans, more fidgety and expressive, and she was not here to observe human behavior as was the general stereotype of Vulcans. If he didn't know better he would say she was here to make friends and mingle, though it appeared she didn't know how. He then noted smaller things, like that her name was T'Liz, and was an engineering officer.

Guido also noticed that the other odd customer today, Talla, was eyeing her. Not romantically, but the mischievous way which meant that in the next 45 seconds something was going to happen. He quickly palmed the hypospray of antitox which if need be could make the Andorian hybrid sober in 12 seconds flat, and a medkit, both of which were hidden under the counter for just such an occasion. But instead of jumping out and stopping it before it began, he waited. Personally, he knew the Vulcan and the Andorian could take care of themselves and it always boosted business when there was a fight. Plus, the rumors of Starfleet officers in this quadrant were legendary, some said that the last time a Starfleet ship entered the Delphic expanse, it had fought off all five of the Xindi races and won, others said that the "Mayko" division of Starfleet had once gotten 18 confirmed kills in 5 minutes, and of course the Klingons had at least a dozen rumors surrounding "those crazy humans", mostly along the lines of Terrans being the only race ballsy or crazy enough to piss off the Klingon empire on purpose, the only ones that were stupid enough to do it multiple times, and last of all, the only ones dangerous enough for the Klingons not to want to fight them. Additionally, if they really damaged anything, he could bill Starfleet's local treasury for reimbursement for damages, but since he used the toughest materials for everything in the bar, there was very little damage they could actually do to the foundations in the bar.

So he waited, and sure enough, Talla walked right up to the Vulcan sat down next to her. "What are your drinking?" Talla asked. T'liz pointed a raised eyebrow and at her, and replied "Lemonade.". Talla, who had brought her drink from the next table snorted into her glass, then, with a bit of a disbelieving tone, asked her "Isn't that an unusual choice, doesn't that break like a ritualistic cultural rule or something?" "At least three rules in my society". The blue lieutenant commander cracked a grin and said "Nice, you know, I think I'm going to like you, what's your name?" "T'liz, yours?" "Talla Shran, at your service"

By this time Guido had realized they were going to be fine, and was about to replace the medkit and the antitox, when he realized that the Klingons that had already bullied some of his customers were walking over to the two. He was about to warn the Klingons off of them, but decided to let things take their course, he was curious to see their response to this, to see if Starfleet officers lived up to the legends. At any rate, if the stories were true, the Klingons deserved what was coming to them. One of the Klingons walked up to T'liz, yanked her around and pointed his knife under her chin. At the unsheathing of the knife the whole bar had gone silent. The Klingon whispered in a low voice that still carried across the room "I heard Starfleet officers taste like targs, I wonder if you're skinned like one". Very calmly T'liz lightly grabbed the Klingon's knife hand, and with a smirk, twisted his wrist backwards with extreme force. He immediately dropped the knife and began to sink to floor in pain. Talla walked up next to him as her friend still had the Klingon in a grip like a vice and whispered in his ear "I heard Klingons are as tough as tribbles too bad you can't fight as well as one". With a nod to T'liz to release him, they two women walked back to the bar and ordered another round. The Klingon, with a extremely broken wrist was about to walk out when he grabbed a knife from the floor, and rushed at Talla, looking to stab her in the back. There was no way Talla could see him, but when he was about to stab her, she whipped around, dodging his lunging arm, grabbing his head, and using his own inertia to drill him into the bar's counter knocking him out. With a slightly drunken and crazy grin, Talla yelled out to the rest of the club, "ANYONE ELSE WANT A PEICE OF ME!". There was dead quiet, then the rest of the Klingons began to circle her and T'liz, when another Starfleet officer from another part of the bar pulled one of the Klingons around, slugging him in the face, and breaking the semicircle. Another Klingon whirled around and hit him, throwing him into a pair of angry Naussicans. After that everything escalated, until the whole bar turned into a brawl, with Starfleet officers, Klingons, and other bar patrons in the fray.

**Author's postscript: Please leave reviews on whether or not you liked it, or not, I expect/want criticism on this story and how I can do better, **


	3. Chapter 3

About 20 minutes after the first Klingon had first grabbed T'liz the bar was in shambles. Even more people lay on the floor than were in the bar when the fight started. Not a single person had come out of the bar without some kind of injury, but in a testament to the egos of the people there, no one had thought to call for medical attention until 3 minutes after the last fighter had slumped on the floor in exhaustion, and no one bothered to call the police. Once the bartender had finished his call to the closest starfleet medic, he began to clean up, which most involved using a hose on the floor and any partons unluckily enough to be in it's way. Talla and T'liz were stuck in a heap next to the door of the bar, having falling down the last, they chose their spot to fall as far away from the hose-wielding bartender as possible. At the front of the bar they were also the first to be noticed by Starfleet medics when they walked in.

The chief medical officer was Commander Bronx. He was a slightly older white male, who had lived through the Romulan war like Captain Nelson had, and upon seeing the carnage in front of him, stated his educated and succinct opinion very loudly. "Holy sh*t, the front lines weren't this bad, at least then we had an excuse, we were at war". He immediately began barking orders, "Alright, lets these lazy bums out front so we aren't in the way of our friend Guido that way he can wipe the floors of all of the drool, those who can walk, drag the ones who can't, and get them out front". He then grabbed Talla's arm, slung it around his shoulder and carried her to the front, repeating the procedure with T'liz. He then began checking their reflexes, pupil dilation and pulse, talking as he did so "Okay Ensign 'TAILA'"

"It's Talla"

"Alright Talla, what the hell happened in there?"

"A very burly Klingon pulled a knife on T'liz and we defended ourselves, other patrons joined in and it escalated from there"

"And you Ensign T'liz, do you have anything to add to her statement?"

"No sir"

Bronx was quiet for a second, then he said "You two are terrible liars".

"What!?"

"A word to the wise you two, don't answer interrogation questions when there is someone taking your pulse, now what else would you like to add to your story?"

With a look of bashful embarrassment, Talla sheepishly began to reply "I may have added a little insult to injury when T'liz was breaking his wrist..." she trailed off as Bronx looked at her sternly.

"And..."

"I may have compared his fighting abilities to a tribble, he tried to stab me in the back, I broke his face, and asked the rest of the bar of they 'wanted a piece of me'"

"And this was when the fight broke out?"

"Yes Commander"

"Don't call me a g**d*** commander, it makes me feel old, now that I heard almost the whole story, I'm gonna treat your wounds"

As he began to bandage the cuts on the women's faces, he kept quiet, until T'liz spoke up "Sir, what sort of a punishment do you believe we'll be facing?"

"That depends"

"On what?"

"Whether you will tell me your real ranks"

The women traded twin looks of confusion again when he spoke up a second time "I have worked in Starfleet for almost 20 years, and I have never met a pair of ensigns who have stood up this well to a commanding officer questioning them like this, add that to the fact that your pulses spiked every time I called you by your formal ranks, so I'm guessing you missing a few pips on your collar"

With a sigh, both pulled out extra pips, and put them on, marking them both as lieutenant commanders, which threw Bronx into a state of shock for 8 solid seconds, before he began to speak again. "At first I thought you were just lieutenants, and you had to answer to your section heads, now, since you are the section heads, you're going to have to deal with the captain"

"So what is your estimate of our punishment"

"Lets put it this way, targs at a Klingon feast have better odds..."

* * *

><p>After T'Liz, Talla and everyone, (including the Klingons, who actually mumbled a slurred compliment to the Starfleet officers for their "fighting prowess of a Klingon") left, the two women got a call on their communicators asking them to meet with the captain. Trading twin looks of apprehension, they proceeded to the local transporter, as the devices were finally free after unloading the last of the cargo 10 minutes ago.<p>

After getting on the station, they consulted a nearby ensign, and learned that the captain was in the ready room of the Excelsior, and proceeded there. When they walked through the doors they were faced with a stone-faced Captain Nelson.

He addressed them calmly and said "Do you know where we are?" The two looked at each other with twin looks of confusion.

"Sir?"

"We are on frontier space, the edge of civilization, the border of law and anarchy. We are going to be here for a long time, there are going to be very few allies out here, and there will be a lot of enemies. Long story short, we're on our own and we are the law and order out here. So when I hear about how my own officers managed to find the only Klingons in a light year and kick their a**es do you know what I do?"

"No sir"

"I think of 23 different ways to punish you for it, then laugh at the absurdity of it and move on without using any of them."

"Sorry sir, I must have heard you wrong, are you not punishing us"

"No, you didn't hear me incorrectly, I checked the security footage of the bar, that Klingon pulled a knife on you and I am never going to punish my officers for fighting back. We are a hell of a long way from home, and we aregoing to have to do things differently than what we would normally do on Earth. We'll loosen up a few rules, and tighten others. If we were on Earth, I would demote your sorry a**es back to ensign, but here there are going to be gray areas where we bend some rules. Now how much damage did you actually do to the poor man's establishment?"

The Vulcan spoke up, "Very little structural damage was done to the bar, it appears as though this has happened before so the owner reinforced certain areas for this sort of event"

"Good, now, this is pretty much normal here, so we won't get anyone suing us, and it seems like you guys actually might have improved our standings with the local populace, people on the surface are opening up more with us instead of treating us like legends. Also, since according to Guido everyone paid for their drinks beforehand, there was no harm done."

The two women snuck a look at each other, Talla with a smirk, T'Liz with a slight twitch of her lips in what was a slight imitation of one, while he finished. "Now I know that everyone needs to burn off some energy, and this is a fat lot better than Russian roulette or some other crazy-a** sh**..."

"Uh sir, what is Russian roulette?"

With a slightly sheepish grin Nelson replied "If you hadn't heard of it by now I won't tell you two, you would think it's nuts, hell, even humans think it's insane, anyway, there are far worst ways to spend your time. So, I will allow a few bar fights here and there, but there have to be a few ground rules. No weapons, if I see one phase, laser, or projectile anything within ten feet of a bar without a very good reason, I'm banning all Starfleet officers from going there. I also expect you to show good judgment, I don't want to see one yawn, complaint about a hangover, or oversleeping that will affect performance. Understood?"

"Yes sir" they both chimed.

"Now last of all, I'm putting you two in charge of Starfleet conduct on the surface"

"What?" Talla questioned.

"Apparently, you two know how to have a good time on the surface, so you two will be in charge of it. Also, you two set a precedent and you will atone for it. Now remember, as Harry S. Truman said, the buck stops here, or in this case, two feet in front of my desk, where you'll tell me any relevant news about the state of affairs on the planet concerning off and on duty Starfleet officers. Anything wrong, it's on your head, understood?"

"Understood." they chimed in unison.

"Good, now get ready, the briefing's in 20 minutes"

"Yes sir!"

As they walked out of his office, Talla turned to T'Liz and asked "Was it my imagination, or did he just give us a job for being in a bar fight?"

"It wasn't your imagination that appears to be the case"

"I am going to love working on this station"

"I believe I shall enjoy this as well".

As the two walked out of his office, Nelson smiled to himself. He was never going to punish the two, he had gotten into bar fights himself as a cadet and lieutenant, and found it a great way to relieve stress. He had also gotten a call from Guido asking him not to punish the Starfleet personnel because of the fight, as it was "a part of life" out here, and the Klingon's officers had started it and were merely blowing off some steam. As he walked to the briefing room, he was glad that he had a crew that knew how to blow off steam and relax, as he doubted that stiff necked purely professional military types would be taken kindly to here. As he pondered his thoughts, he walked with a steady gait to the briefing room to meet his new crew.

**Author's Postscript: any and all reviews are appreciated, please leave your thoughts on the story**


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